Jesus. Foreman had no idea what he'd started. Amber's cheeks flushed to a deeper pink, and her eyes glittered with an intensity that took his vague imaginings and seemed to give them shape and form right in front of him. It shouldn't be this hot, just to think about it. But it wasn't just thinking. The way Amber watched him, evaluating, her lips full against the rim of her wineglass, her goading smile, all said that this was no fantasy. She'd taken his bait, and there was no way in hell Foreman was going to back down when he was the one who'd made the overture. Yeah, he'd been following the rules for half his life, and what had that gotten him? Busted back down to House's fellow. Back in New York he'd taken a risk and gotten caught--and paid for it. This time, he felt invincible as a teenager, completely immune to consequences. His breath caught in his throat when Amber's hand touched his knee, her fingers massaging just above it. Exactly where he'd wanted to touch her. The sheer possibility of that light caress went straight to his dick.
Foreman took a quick, shallow breath. He didn't want to get caught. Fuck. In public. He'd never be able to show his face in this restaurant again. Foreman cut his eyes around the room. There were practically no other diners. This late on a Monday? They'd be lucky to get their waiter back here, let alone anyone else. The bathrooms were down a short hallway...fuck. Well, what did he care if he could never eat here again? There were plenty of other restaurants in the city; no one had to know.
Reaching under the table, Foreman covered Amber's hand with his, first drawing her palm slightly higher on his thigh, then tracing his fingertips along the thin skin of her inner arm, a featherlight touch, wondering if he'd be able to measure her heartbeat. His skin already felt hotter, his suit too confining. "Not that good," he said, his voice hoarse. He'd never done this before. Drunken making out in the middle of a college party until things had nearly gotten out of hand, yeah. Out away from the city during a camping trip, once, in the shadows of the trees away from the fire. But like this? His pulse was hot and fast in his throat. He was too curious about what Amber would do, would suggest, to do more than raise his eyebrow, leaving it up to her where this would go.
no subject
Foreman took a quick, shallow breath. He didn't want to get caught. Fuck. In public. He'd never be able to show his face in this restaurant again. Foreman cut his eyes around the room. There were practically no other diners. This late on a Monday? They'd be lucky to get their waiter back here, let alone anyone else. The bathrooms were down a short hallway...fuck. Well, what did he care if he could never eat here again? There were plenty of other restaurants in the city; no one had to know.
Reaching under the table, Foreman covered Amber's hand with his, first drawing her palm slightly higher on his thigh, then tracing his fingertips along the thin skin of her inner arm, a featherlight touch, wondering if he'd be able to measure her heartbeat. His skin already felt hotter, his suit too confining. "Not that good," he said, his voice hoarse. He'd never done this before. Drunken making out in the middle of a college party until things had nearly gotten out of hand, yeah. Out away from the city during a camping trip, once, in the shadows of the trees away from the fire. But like this? His pulse was hot and fast in his throat. He was too curious about what Amber would do, would suggest, to do more than raise his eyebrow, leaving it up to her where this would go.